I Just Want to Talk
by randomplotbunny
Summary: The Joker needs someone to understand him, perhaps the Batman does too. Eventual Joker/Batman.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: They ain't mine, I only play with them.**

The Joker sighed and stretched out in his cell.

'What is wrong with me?' He thought. 'I'm fine for years and one little comment from the bats has me questioning my life-choices.'

He sighed again, which was really making the guards outside his cell nervous.

'If only bats could understand what it's like being me, but you can't force someone to know you.' With that thought he turned to the nearest cookie-cutter guard.

"Hey Joe! I got a question."

"Yes, Mr. Joker?"

All the guards had learned quickly to be polite to the madman. It beat waking up covered in a thousand paper cuts- exactly one thousand, they had counted- or not waking up at all.

"Listen, Joe, I have a problem.

"I've had my eye on someone for a while now, but they hardly seem to notice I'm there!

"I've tried everything to make them see we belong together, but when we do meet up all we seem to do is fight!

"So my question is this: if you were in my place, what would you do?"

Now 'Joe' was terrified, if he gave the wrong answer there was no telling what would happen to him.

Everyone knew that the patients ran the asylum.

"I'm waiting, Joe." Said the green haired menace.

Giving an internal sigh, an audible one might get him killed, Not-Joe decided to give his honest opinion and hope for the best.

"Well... if I was after someone and they didn't want me in return, I would ask myself: Why?, What am I doing wrong? or What have I done in the past to cause them to not want me?

"If I can't think of anything myself, then I would try to talk to them about it. Meet them on neutral ground and talk out our problems.

"If, after I had tried everything, had done all I could to make it work between us and they were still hostile towards me, I would leave.

"No one needs to be a doormat."

Realizing he had rambled, Definitely-Not-Joe shut up.

Taking a chance he turned towards the cell and was taken aback by what he saw.

The Clown Prince of Crime was staring at the floor with a very serious expression on his face.

Looking to his stone faced associates for help- they had gone rigid in an attempt at self-preservation- he was rebuffed.

Turning to the cell once more, he came eye to eye with toxic green eyes.

A smile split the face of the scariest psycho in Arkam, and a cackle filled the air.

"You're right, Joe! Thanks!"

As the guard regained consciousness, he was only slightly surprised to see he was in the infirmary.

Catching sight of a passing nurse, he asked:

"What happened?"

"The Joker escaped." She spoke softly, it was practically a scheduled event after all.

"You're very lucky Mr. Crocker, you are the only guard to survive."

Leaning back, Mr. Crocker smiled at the ceiling.

"I feel lucky. And please, call me Joe."

_AN: So let me know if you want more and I will be happy to comply._


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Just so you know, my Joker is the old school joker. Heath Ledger rocked it on the big screen, but my heart will always belong to that crazed, chemically scarred Joker; with his stark white skin, ruby lips and emerald eyes and hair._

**Disclaimer: So not mine.**

After a long day of board meetings and event planning as Bruce Wayne, the Batman was ready to don his signature gear and hit the streets.

If he was lucky he might even get a lead on the Joker who had escaped Arkham two days before.

The Dark Knight didn't like it when his nemesis was on the loose, he tended to make things... unpredictable.

Handing his briefcase and jacket over to his loyal retainer, Bruce made his way down to his cave.

The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.

The Joker, still in his Arkham finest, was sitting on his computer chair reading a book.

"Hey Brucey, I was wondering when you would arrive." The man hadn't even looked up from his book.

"Joker! How-?!"

"Don't worry Brucey. If I had any intention of revealing your identity to the world I would have done so years ago."

"But how-?"

"You should really close your mouth, you're starting to look like a fish."

The green haired man finally looked up from his reading and smirked.

He actually sat there and smirked!

"How did you get in here?!"

"Through the door."

Now he was making jokes!

"You should really update your security. One old man and a clock? Anyone could get down here."

"What are you doing here?" He needed to get a handle on this situation.

Then he could knock the madman out and... what? His identity was known. How was he to deal with this?

"I came to talk."

"-" He had heard wrong.

He had most definitely heard wrong!

"I know, completely out of character; but I recently got some good advice from my friend Joe, and I wanted to see if it worked.

"We have been at each others' throats for years, Bats. And I really think we're made for each other-"

"We are not made for each other!"

"Let me finish! Please.

"I think we were made for each other, but I know you don't think the same way. So I am here to get to know the man behind the bat. In return you get to know the man behind the clown.

"If, in a months time, you are still unconvinced; then I shall quietly go back to Arkham and rot."

"I don't believe a word of it Joker."

"You should, I'm trying to meet you halfway. The least you could do is the same, Batsy.

"Or I can blow up your mansion, expose you as Batman and destroy Gotham and everything you ever loved.

"The choice is yours of course.

"Why don't you go on up and talk it over with Alfred. He worries, you know."

Going back to his book in clear dismissal, the Joker proceeded to ignore the other man.

Not knowing what else to do, and still in a bit of shock from the last few minutes, Bruce went back upstairs to find his old mentor.

"Sir? Is everything all right?"

Bruce had come into the kitchen and taken a seat without a word.

"Why do you ask?" Said the shaken man, still thinking over his encounter downstairs.

"It's simply that once you descend into the cave I don't usually see you again until morning, unless you're bleeding of course."

"I-I was just hungry."

What else could he say, 'Hey the Joker is downstairs and going to be staying for a while'?

No, he had to think on this before dragging poor Alfred into the middle of it.

"Ah, yes. It is good to see you finally taking an interest in your own stomach. I worry, you know." He began making his young master some supper.

Bruce paused at that last comment, the Joker had said the same thing.

"Yes, I know."

"Out and about with criminals at all hours, coming home beaten half to death.

"It's a wonder your able to stand half the time, let alone attend board meetings; not that I don't worry about you there as well.

"Some of those lawyers could eat their own children."

The old man visible shuddered.

"I'm just glad none of your more dangerous enemies are out and about."

"The Joker escaped a couple of days ago." Wasn't his old guardian worried about the Batman's next encounter with the Clown Prince?

"Yes, well. He hasn't tried to kill you in some time, has he?

"No, he hurts people and makes threats until you find him; and then you beat him to a pulp. He may get his licks in too, but I'm the one who treats you afterwards.

"You never have any serious or life threatening injuries after fighting with the clown, not anymore at any rate.

"Not that I don't still feel bad anytime you go after him, I just feel a lot worse when you go after anyone else. You've been hurt worse on nightly patrols than with that madman lately.

"Now here, eat this, it will take your mind off whatever is bothering you." The butler set a plate in front of the young man, piled it high with all his favorites.

"Why do you think something is bothering me?" He had thought he was hiding it well.

"I have known you your whole life, Master Bruce, I know all that there is to know about you, and then some. So, when I see something bothering you, and you trying to hide it; I know it must be bad."

"Your right. Though I don't want to talk about it quite yet."

"Very well, sir. Now eat your dinner. The criminal classes are waiting."

You have no idea who is waiting, thought Bruce.

Finishing the impeccable meal Alfred had made him, and having thought over all his options, he headed back down to the cave.

"You can stay." He felt like the words were being ripped from him.

"I would thank you, but I didn't give you much choice." The green haired clown placed a bookmark on his page and looked to his new host.

"No you didn't. So what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, anything really. But I think we should start with sleeping arrangements."

"What?"

"You have a very lovely home. I've already seen most of it, quite the library I might add." He held up the book he had almost completed.

"But I will need a bedroom soon, and an introduction to your intrepid butler. He seems nice."

"You will not touch him!" He could take his life being flipped, but he would not have Alfred in danger.

"I have no intention too. I can be pleasant company if I set my mind to it, and I will be nothing less than pleasant to the man who raised my Bats."

He had no comment on that, his mind drew a complete blank.

"Why don't we get introductions out-of-the-way first, shall we?" His arch-enemy turned to his computer and hit a button to summon his butler.

When had the madman gained access to his computer?!

"You really do need to look into better security Batsy. I had your codes cracked before your chair was even warm under me."

He had no time to come up with a retort to that as Alfred walked in.

"Yes, sir? You-" His eyes had fallen on the seated man talking with his master.

"Sir?"

"It's alright, Alfred. I'm not here to harm your ward. I'm just staying for a month of bonding, if that'll be fine by you?"

Looking between the two, the butler noted the resigned slump of his Masters' shoulders and the eager gleam in poisonous green eyes.

With an internal smile, 'This might just be what the Young Master needs,' Alfred gave a slight bow.

"I'll have a room setup shortly and appropriate clothing available soon after. If you will excuse me?"

As he turned to go he caught the startled look on his Masters' face, it paired well with the knowing smirk on the others' stark white features.

He didn't know what was going on, though he was sure to find out soon, but if those two weren't lovers before the end of the month he didn't deserve the title of Butler.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Honestly? Who would ever believe I owned this?**

As Bruce made his way downstairs the next morning he heard an unusual sound: laughter. Not just any laughter, this was Alfred's seldom heard chuckle.

Thinking the worst- that perhaps the madman he had let into his home had given his intrepid butler a shot of Joker Juice- he rushed into the kitchen and received the biggest surprise of his life. His Butler and Arch Enemy, sitting at the table, looking at pictures and laughing.

Feeling a sense of ease return at not spotting any signs of the Joker's signature venom, he stepped towards the pair.

"What are you looking at?" The pair jumped, clearly not having heard him enter the room. Alfred recovered first, standing and wiping happy tears from his eyes.

"Ah, Master Bruce, we were just looking over some... uh..."

"I took pictures!" Squealed the green-eyed man happily.

Walking over to take a look for himself, Bruce blushed. The Joker HAD taken pictures. Pictures of his most embarrassing moments.

That one there was of the time he had ended up covered in pink paint and glitter. And there, that one, it was when he had been slipping and sliding over a large grease spill. And, oh no, that one there was when he had been tied up and left in an alley- by the time he had finally gotten loose he had six cats sleeping on him!- that had been one of his worst nights.

There were also other shots, he finally noticed. Shots of him as Bruce Wayne.

That time at a party someone had slipped and spilled champagne all down his back. When he was getting out of his car and another motorist splash him in muddy water, just before an important board meeting he remembered.

Oh! And this one! That was at the fundraiser Ivy had overtaken. She had dosed everyone present with a new drug to cause instant inebriation, he still didn't know how he had managed to get home and in bed.

"Whoever you have photographing me is very good. I never noticed anyone following me, let alone taking pictures." He said looking over the small mound of candid shots.

"Thank you! I do love compliments."

"You? But you were nowhere near me most of these times! You couldn't have taken them all. How could you have?" The Joker drew himself up into a snobbish posture.

"Whatever else I may be I am still a professional, and a professional never reveals their secrets." With a quiet sniff of aristocratic disdain, the Clown Prince of Crime maintained his snobbish attitude; for all of ten seconds before succumbing to a fit of giggles.

"I've been stalking you Bats. I've simply gotten good at not being seen when I don't want to be. Now sit down! Mr. Pennyworth here went to a lot of trouble to make us breakfast, and the least we can do is eat it and show appreciation for his skills."

"Please, call me Alfred." Said the butler, setting two trays down on the table.

"If you insist, Alfred." Looking between the two and taking a seat to be served, Bruce continued looking through the stack of photos.

Not all of them were of embarrassing moments, he realized. There were some shots of him being serious or thinking, a few were of the rare moments when he gave a genuine smile, but none showed the fake smile he gave more frequently as Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire.

Taking an absent bite of his breakfast, he found himself returning to the one of him at the fundraiser gone wrong.

"You want to know what happened that night, don't you."

Looking up and into a peaceful gaze(why had he never really noticed how large the mans eyes were?) he gave a nod.

Smirking slightly, and taking another photo from that night in hand, the oddly serene man began:

"I followed you that night- I normally do when I have nothing else going on- then Red showed up. She'd already dosed everyone, but thanks to that chemical bath I can burn through most any drug. They really hate me at Arkham for that; among other things. So by the time everyone was out of it I was once again fine. -"

"So every time I've tranquilized you, you were what? Playing possum?"

"Pretty much. It was the only time I ever got to spend with you when we weren't flailing at each other. May I continue now?" Receiving a nod he flashed a grin and began again.

"As I was saying: the cocktail Red used didn't affect me. So I waited long enough for you to go insensible enough not to remember what was happening, brought you home and put you to bed. End of story." Taking the last bite of his own breakfast(he had been eating through the entire conversation- how had he not choked?) he handed his plate over to the butler with thanks.

"That's not all of it." He couldn't put his finger on why, but he knew there was more to the story. Or else he was just so used to being suspicious of the man that he was unable to take what he said at face value, no matter the truth it might hold.

"Yes it is."

"No it's not. How did you get me past Ivy and her goons? They were sorting everyone by wealth, I would have been the big prize. And just how long have you known my identity? That party was almost five years ago!" Bruce was stunned, he had only just now remembered that detail.

"I've known who you are since... three months? Yeah, three months after our first meeting."

"That long? And you have never tried using my identity against me. Why?" Bruce honestly didn't understand the mans motives in this.

"At first I was planning to use it against you; but that was before I got to know you. I would never do so now!" And in an undertone he added, "There would be no fun in it."

Deciding he would ignore the last, and process everything else later, he attempted to steer their conversation back to topic.

"Alright. But the party. How- exactly- did you get me out of there?"

"Well... fine! But just so you know I did it for your own good!" Bruce did not like the sound of that, but he wanted to know. Taking a sip of his coffee, he motioned to the clown to continue. Letting out a huff of air he did so.

"I went up to Red, said that she had ruined my fun and that if she didn't let me leave with my intended playmate of the night that she would be sorry. She backed off and let me leave with you. I gave her a passing shot, said that I would probably be taking the heat off her as the Batman would most likely come after me and Gotham's playboy of the year."

"That doesn't sound too bad. So where is the catch? You wouldn't be acting this shifty if there wasn't one."

"Well... I may have... left her with the impression that I was going to have my way with you." The last part of that sentence was said in a rush and Bruce could only stare.

Alfred on the other hand had started laughing from his position by the sink. Noticing the glare he was receiving, the butler attempted to pull his face back into a neutral expression.

"You must admit sir, that it was rather effective in gaining your freedom." Turning back to the man in front of him, Bruce had one final question.

"And just how did you explain my lack of filing a police report?"

"I didn't have to. The lack of Batman showing to her event made Ivy believe that he came after me to rescue you. I never corrected her on that score, and she knew what her chemical cocktail would do to your memory so... that's it!"

Bruce just stared, he didn't know what to say. He had been saved- for lack of a better word- by his arch nemesis, and he had never known. What was a vigilante to say to that?

Just as the silence was starting to become uncomfortable, his watch beeped.

"Time for little Brucey to make an appearance in the real world! I'll sit this one out, if you don't mind. I do not believe your professional life would hold any interest for me."

Not wanting to leave Alfred alone with the crazed man, he went to say he wasn't going in when he was overruled.

"Now sir, everything will be fine here. Go on, Bruce Wayne needs to show his face at work."

"Don't worry, Batsy. Alfred and I will just sit back and continue to bond over a few more of Batman's' mishaps." Seeing the manic grin leveled at him, and the far more menacing stern glare directed towards him, he knew he was out voted. Standing from the table, he went to leave for work.

JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER

Bruce rushed through his day. He rescheduled and cancelled everything he could so he would have as much time to spend at home as possible. He really didn't like leaving Alfred home alone with that clown.

Even if they had been getting on well that morning... No! The Joker was a good actor, he could not be trusted! Pushing down that small part of his brain that kept telling him he was lying to himself, Bruce headed home.

Upon arrival everything was quiet. Heading to the kitchen, he suppressed his desire to panic. He didn't want to even think of what might have happened during the day.

"Alfred?" He called, still finding no sign of the man.

"He went to the market." Came a voice from right behind him, causing him to jump and turn towards the threat. The Joker just stood there passively.

"He said something about making a special meal for your house guest."

Taking in the still defensive posture and the newly confused expression, the clown made a guess at the cause and tried to reassure the other man.

"I used to make a lot of noise, back when we first started our dance. But I learned to be quiet, become unnoticeable.

"Which, I might add, is hard to do when you look the way I do.

"After a while I realized my mistake: if you didn't know where I was you couldn't find me. Now, had I been so inclined I could have used that to my advantage- and I have, just never against you- and put an end to our dance."

Giving a look to the still staring man, the Joker turned and headed back the way he came; deliberately making noise this time.

Realizing he was gaping- and not knowing what else to do- Bruce closed his mouth and headed after the other man.

They ended up in the library, the Joker looking for a new book and Bruce setting up his laptop so he could work from home as much as possible. Finally making a selection, the green-haired man sat down next to the unmasked vigilante's desk and began to read.

That was how Alfred found them. The Joker quietly reading and his Master clicking away at his computer.

How domestic, he thought. Now if he could only get his young Master to realize how at ease he was around the man he perceived as his greatest enemy. Their back and forth that morning proved how well they complemented each other.

After all, the old man had always known his young Master could never settle for one of those simpering airheads that clung to his arm at events and such. He needed someone with a personality as strong as his own, and the clown provided that in spades.

Perhaps the romantic dinner he had planned for that evening would shake some sense into the boy.

He had no worries about the Joker on that front. Anyone could see the complete devotion the man had for his Batsy. The hard part would be getting his Master to see past his trust issues to what was being offered.

With a quiet sigh, he left and headed to his kitchen. He would do what he could for them, he only hoped the Joker was up for the challenge he had set himself.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Sorry for the delay in updating. Real life can be a bitch sometimes! Oh! And mild references to child abuse and murder/suicide in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

The Joker looked over the man covered in bandages laying on the bed. His poor Batsy! And the night had started out so well too.

Alfred had led them to a small dinning room for a romantic dinner for two. Not that Brucey had been aware of it of course- he was so adorable when he was deliberately being obtuse! As they were served, the Joker had tried to start-up conversation.

"So Batsy, what's new?" Whatever his Bat might have replied was cut off by an urgent beeping- the Bat signal. His Batsy gave him a torn look, at his nod the man took off for his cave. When Alfred came in to clear away the untouched plates, he placed a comforting hand on the clowns' shoulder.

"Don't worry sir, you'll get him. We just need to get him out of shell." Giving a small smile to the butler, the Joker turned his attention back to his own plate of steak and potatoes- if only he could get the man to stay still and talk!

It was several hours later when the Batmobile made its way back to the cave to be met by two very worried people. It had been Killer Crock out tonight, and he hadn't pulled any punches.

As the clown and butler worked side-by-side to save the battered mans' life- it had been too close this time, his heart had stopped twice!- all the Joker could think of was all the things he wanted to say. And how he might never get the chance to same them!

Once the unconscious man was stabilized, and moved to the small hospital room set up in a corner of the vast cave, Alfred had left his ward in the caring hands of his arch nemesis.

Now it was almost dawn and the Harlequin of Hate was forming a plan. He would need to wait and make sure his Batsy would be alright without him there though. He trusted Alfred Pennyworth fully, but this was his Bat! No-one could care for his Bat other than him!

As the days wore on and Bruce remained unconscious- though thankfully not comatose- the Joker started to gather the pieces he would need to complete his new goal. He would hand a list of what he needed to Alfred, and, if the items were not already somewhere in the cave, the butler would run out to purchase them.

Alfred had a vague idea of what the Joker was up to, but he didn't want to pry- the clown had hovered over and cared for his Master more thoroughly than if he had been in a real hospital.

It had been a week now since Killer Crock had mauled his Batsy, and the man was finally out of the woods. Just after settling his still unconscious Bat in his own bed, the clown had announced that he was going out and that Alfred shouldn't wait up.

JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER

Bruce awoke feeling warm and safe. As he drifted into full awareness he realized he was in his own bedroom. The heaviness of his chest and the IV at his side told him he had been injured- and severely if Alfred still had him on pain killers.

At a slight movement on his other side Bruce turned to see the Joker sleeping soundly curled up against him. The man was wearing one of his signature suits, but what pale skin was visibly was heavily bandaged.

Realizing his sense of peace was coming from the man next to him, Bruce closed his eyes. As sleep dragged him under once more he had one final thought: Who had dared to hurt his Joker?

Coming to once more- Bruce was slightly disappointed to note that he was alone- he attempted to sit up. As he struggled to rise Alfred came into the room.

"Sir, please lay still, we don't need you pulling your stitches out." Stopping his struggles, Bruce looked up at his butler.

He had so many questions. How long had he been unconscious? How extensive were his wounds? Had Killer Crock been caught yet?

But to his own surprise- but certainly not to Alfred's- the first thing he asked was none of those.

"How badly was the Joker hurt?" With a smile the butler began to answer as many of the questions that knew his Master wanted to ask, and in the process answered the one that had been asked.

"Please relax, your wounds were- and still are- significant. If the Joker hadn't been here to help- and if he hadn't been so adept at suturing- I may have lost you for good. Your heart stopped twice while we worked!" Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, the butler continued.

"You were unresponsive for a week, and have been fading in and out of consciousness for the last two. The Joker is fine, he went out and caught Killer Crock and some of the others. He is, at the moment, on your laptop. He has been doing an excellent job pretending to be you, and no-one has yet to think that Bruce Wayne is not the one giving orders."

At the stunned stare he received Alfred decided to not yet mention how high Wayne Corp stock had risen since the Joker had started making executive decisions. Or the fact that the villains he had 'caught' had been the ones to 'escape' him with what they thought was the Batman's help.

They had all given themselves up to the to police in order to receive protection, and were now quite happily passing time in Arkham. There had not yet been a single escape attempt.

Alfred did not know- and did not want to know- what the clown had done to create such a reaction, but he was quite happy with the results. His young Master would be safe for a time at least.

"I'll bring up a light lunch, shall I? I'm sure you are hungry after three weeks of sleep." Receiving a small nod, the butler left the man to his thoughts.

As the door closed behind his oldest friend, Bruce let himself drift off into thought. He had been unconscious three weeks and had almost died- it had to have been very serious for Alfred to show as much emotion as he had over the matter.

And the Joker had rounded up the other villains? Why would he do such a thing? Had he- it couldn't be. Had he been upset at Bruce being injured? That couldn't be it, could it?

And he was taking care of Bruce's day work? He didn't know anything about corporate law, how could he run a multi-national corporation? Nothing made any sense! What was he missing?

So caught up in his thoughts was he that he didn't notice his door opening, or hear the soft tread of feet making there way to his bedside. It wasn't until a tray was set down on his nightstand that he finally realized that he was no longer alone.

Looking up into bright green eyes, Bruce couldn't find his voice to ask the million and one questions he wanted to ask this confusing man.

The Joker clearly saw the confusion on the bed ridden man's face. Giving a small smile he helped the man to sit up with a few pillows behind his back- hopefully they would be able to get their talk over soon, he only had a week left before he was to take his promised leave.

"Alfred asked me to bring you lunch, he said that we should talk now." As the clown placed the tray across his lap, Bruce gave him a suspicious look.

"What do we have to talk about?" With a sigh, the Joker settled himself on the edge the bed next to his Batsy's knees.

"Why don't you just eat while I talk. Who knows? You may learn something." Too tired now to keep up his full defences, Bruce gave a nod and reached for his spoon.

The Joker smiled- he would finally get this off his chest- but where should he begin? Closing his eyes a moment to organize his thoughts, the green-eyed man began.

"I was born here in Gotham, Jack Napier was my name. My father was an abusive drunk and my mother a neglectful whore; he killed her infront of me when I was ten. I remember him turning to me with a sick grin and saying: 'Jacky my boy, if you weren't so pathetic I'd put you out of your misery!', just before he turned the gun on himself." Giving a small smile, he started picking at the threads of the blanket he was sitting on.

"I got passed around the system after that- ended up in some odd places, but never anywhere as bad as I had started. At sixteen I emancipated myself, and started college- I've always been a genius you see. At eighteen I married a lovely girl and thought I was set for life." Giving a chuckle he indicated that Bruce should start eating again.

"She got pregnant- it wasn't mine- and I learned just what type of money-grubbing person she was. I stood by her though, got myself embroiled with the mob for her; took that dive into that chemical bath for her. And when I turned to her for help, she laughed at me; I left her then. She died in child-birth, little Wendy was quickly adopted by a nice couple just outside of Gotham; she's thirteen this year." With a fond smile, the mad man showed Bruce a small picture of a lovely looking blonde girl.

"I would have raised her as my own with her mother, but after everything I decided she was better off this way." Putting the picture away, the Joker resumed telling his story to his enraptured Bats.

"They say that genius and madness are only separated by a hairs breath, so after I lost the last vestiges of my normal life I decided to try madness. And I must say that it's worked out so far. I started by going after the mob family that had helped destroy my life, and quickly worked my way up from there. I'm sure you know the rest from here." Taking a deep breath, the starkly white man steadied himself for what he was about to say.

"What you probably don't know is that I have been in love with you for years." He didn't look up at the choking noise coming from the other man, he just waited until silence reigned once more.

"At first I thought it was only infatuation- you are the only one who has ever been able to match wits with me- but I soon realized it was more than that. I have told you many times that we were made for each other- and I truly believe we are- but I don't honestly know how you feel on this matter." With another small smile, he brought his long soliloquy to a close.

"When crocodile breath mauled you- when I felt your heart stop for that second time- I decided that I had to just tell you point-blank at the first chance I received, and damn the consequences. I love you Batman, Bruce Wayne; whoever you want to be at the moment. If you don't feel the same then that's fine, but I won't keep chasing you without some encouragement." Picking up the half cleared tray- he didn't think the man would be able to eat any more- the Joker stood to take his leave.

"My month here is almost up Batsy, rest and think it over. Okay?" Without another word the clown left a very discomforted Bruce alone to his thoughts.

As the door closed, Bruce finally let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. The Joker was in love with him? He didn't believe it. It couldn't be true!

Closing his eyes in sudden exhaustion, Bruce let himself fall back into unconsciousness. He would deal with it tomorrow, he was just too tired for it right now.

With one last deep breath- and a wish that he wasn't alone in his big bed, though he wouldn't admit to that thought- Bruce drifted off to sleep.

_AN.2: Hey, so I'm thinking one, possibly two chapters left in this story. Please let me know what your thoughts are and leave a review._


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Sorry for the OC Dr. Nemus, I just needed a Doctor and couldn't decide between the cannon ones._

**Disclaimer: If the Joker comes to my house and tells me I own them... I'll take his word for it.**

Arkham Asylum Patient Overview

From the desk of:

Dr. Joshua Nemus, head of Psychology Arkham Asylum

The recent influx of criminal psychotics returning to Arkham Asylum of their own free will is a mystery in need of solving in order to properly treat these unfortunates.

So far the only connection found between these patients has been the Joker(real name unknown), and any attempt to inquire for details from the patients is met by either hysteria or a complete shut down of all responses.

Although every patient had a different experience and has presented different symptoms since arrival, they all have one thing in common: a refusal to leave the asylum grounds.

Below is a summary of the effected patients, perhaps someone at a later time can shed some light on what these unfortunates suffered and can find a way to help them.

Patient Name: Pamela Isley aka Poison Ivy

Patient surrendered to the police and was immediately hospitalized for sever acid burns on eighty percent of her body. Upon awakening the patient proceeded to have hysterics.

It was not until an orderly noticed that all the patients attention was focused on the potted plant at her bedside, and removed said plant, that patient began to calm. Patient then asked to be sent to Arkham Asylum for protection, but refused to say why or from whom she required protection.

Since arrival patient has said almost nothing, but sobs openly at any reference to the Joker(real name unknown). Patient also presents hysterics at the sight of any living plant, and has had to be sedated on a number of occasions.

Patient Name: Johnathan Crane aka Scarecrow

Patient surrendered to the police and has been in a catatonic state ever since.

The only indication anyone has as to what he has gone through is from when he screams 'Stop the laughing!' in his sleep.

Patient will also cower closer to himself at any mention of the Joker(real name unknown).

Patient Name: Jarvis Tetch aka Mad Hatter

Patient surrendered to police and was immediately hospitalized for sever food poisoning. When the patients stomach was pumped it was found that he had consumed a large, raw, white rabbit; bones, fur and all.

Although patient has been highly talkative, he will only speak in quotes from Lewis Carrol.

Patient also presents with hysteria at the sight of anyone with blonde hair, wearing blue, is female or any combination of those three.

When asked of his experience with the Joker(real name unknown) his response is always the same: "The Red Queen is angry. We must wait for Twinkle Twinkle to help."

We have come to the conclusion that the 'Red Queen' is a reference to the Joker(real name unknown), and 'Twinkle Twinkle' is a reference to the Batman(real name unknown).

Patient Name: Edward Nigma aka Riddler

Patient surrendered to police and was immediately hospitalized for sever lacerations across his entire body. Once cleaned the cuts on his chest spelled out: WHAT IS THE ANSWER? The rest of the patients body was covered in question marks(?).

Patient is the most lucid of the group, but will shut down completely for hours up to days if pressed about the Joker(real name unknown) or about the large question mark(?) adorning is left cheek.

Patient been recently placed on suicide watch after threatening to take his own life when offered the chance to transfer to a different facility. It should be noted that the patient let slip the word 'He cannot protect me if I'm not in Arkham!' while ranting.

Patient Name: Harvey Dent aka Two-Face

Patient surrendered to the police and asked to be transferred to Arkham Asylum immediately. Patient is completely unresponsive unless in the presence of patient Edward Nigma aka Riddler.

Patient has been found to be extremely apologetic, even apologizing for things that were not his fault.

When offered a two sided coin for therapy purposes- his original one having been found broken in two and embedded in his back- patient began to cry and repeat over and over until he was sedated: It wasn't his fault. I forgive him.

It is believed that he was referring to he Batman(real name unknown).

Patient Name: Oswald Cobblepot aka Penguin

Patient surrendered to police and was immediately taken to the hospital. Patient had been surgically grafted with feathers all across his body and had a bad infection.

After the feathers were removed and the infection under control, patient asked to be transfered to Arkham Asylum as soon as possible.

Patient will speak only when spoken to and prefers to communicate using bird whistles. Though it should be noted that the sight of any bird, big or small, will set patient off into hysterics.

Patient Name: Waylon Jones aka Killer Crock

Patient is the only one who did not voluntarily surrender to police. Though it should be noted that this is due more to his extensive injuries than to any motivation on the patient's part.

Patient was found outside police headquarters in a large green and purple box. At first authorities did not believe the patient was still alive.

Patient has had all extremities removed: arms, legs, tail and genitalia. Patient also had all remaining scales removed with what authorities believe was a cheese grater, and his jaw broken in eighteen places after his teeth were removed.

It is only because of patient Waylon Jones aka Killer Crock's mutagenic state that he survived and is now recovering and growing back his limbs.

No theories have been substantiated as to why the Joker(real name unknown) would treat this patient differently from the rest. All further inquiries will need to wait until patient regains use of his jaw.

Notes from the desk of:

Dr. Joshua Nemus, head of psychology Arkham Asylum

Since writing the above summaries, it has been brought to my attention that all the above noted patient will be instantly calmed- no matter how sever their hysteria- at the mention of the Batman(real name unknown).

Even catatonic patient Johnathan Crane aka Scarecrow will give small responses at the mention of the Batman(real name unknown).


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I owe nothing except what I think up at night.**

It was another two months before Bruce was well enough to redon his cap and cowl, and Alfred had been playing message runner the entire time. He didn't know what was said between the two, but ever since their talk neither man had made any effort to see or speak to the other.

His first message run had been to ask the Joker if he would stay until Batman was able to take over again. His second run had been to say: Yes. Yes he would. Really, if he didn't believe these two were made for each other Alfred would be quite depressed at these turn of events.

For his part Bruce was busy trying to heal, and was finding it exhausting to sleep so much. In his moments of consciousness between bout of sleep he had been contemplating everything that the Joker(Jack, his mind supplied) had told him.

In only a few short minutes all the questions he had ever had concerning the Joker had been answered, and so many more had been raised. Love? How could the Joker be in love with him? They didn't know anything about who the other really was outside of the vigilante/criminal aspects of their interactions.

But that was a lie wasn't it, he thought, Joker(Jack) knew everything about both Batman AND Bruce. It was Bruce who didn't know the clown. Did he want to?

Afraid of where this train of thought was taking him, Bruce grabbed the laptop Alfred had reluctantly brought him- he hadn't had the energy to open it before now- and opened it to check on his city and business.

Taking a deep breath, and dreading what he was about to find, Bruce opened up his work files. What he found made his head whirl.

The Joker, a man with no experience at corporate management, had been doing an amazing job.

Productivity was up thirty-eight percent. The stock had risen to an all time high. Ground had been broken for sixteen new factories worldwide.

Several open research projects had been shut down, their resources and personnel redistributed to other projects- some new- that were already beginning to turn a profit. Charity projects were running smoothly and new events had already been set up.

It looked as if the Joker(Jack) was doing a better job at being Bruce Wayne that Bruce had been doing lately. And because he couldn't stop his suspicious mind, he made a note to go over everything thoroughly to be sure that his company hadn't been sabotaged.

Closing his business folder he then opened a connection to his computer in the Batcave down below. He absently noted that someone- he didn't want to think just who at the moment- had been accessing his super-computer regularly, and then delved into crime reports for the time he had been incapacitated.

Reports on Batman sightings were as rampant as ever- Bruce shuddered at the thought of just who had been wearing his costume(and then told himself he had shuddered in disgust at the mental image of the Harlequin of Hate dressed in his armor not in... he wouldn't think of that)- but he found that most of the headlines surrounded a group of his enemies that had given themselves up to the police of their own accord.

It didn't take long to hack Arkham's database, or to find an internal report from the head psychologist Dr. Nemus. As he read through the summaries of the most recent patients to be readmitted, Bruce could feel something in his chest tighten.

Shutting down his links and putting his laptop aside, Bruce laid back down feeling as exhausted as if he had tried to stand up. Now he knew some of what the Joker(Jack, his mind continued to supply) had done to avenge his injuries... and he just didn't understand his own feelings on the matter.

He should feel disgust.

He should want to beat the clowns' face in and drag him off to Arkham.

So why did he feel the urge to thank the man?

JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER

Joker had been having a blast! He got to play at being his Batsy, and he got to play around with international commerce! He didn't know what the big deal about the whole 'being trained' thing was, he had never found it difficult; but then he was a genius if he did say so himself.

But his Batsy was almost up to strength again, the man had slowly been taking over his role as Bruce Wayne once more. Attending events with a model hanging off his arm, jet setting around the globe on business trips- the Joker only wished he could be the one hanging off of his Batsy's arm in public, not staying at home as his dirty little secret.

For the last two months- ever since they had had their one-way heart to heart- Joker had given his Bat his space, and promised himself that he would stay away until he was asked for; but he was never asked for! If it hadn't been for Alfred's constant encouragement he would have given up hope already.

Now though it was time to force the issue. His Batsy was well enough to start patrolling again, and he had already retaken the reigns of his company; it was time to either say goodbye for good or... something else. He tried not to dwell on the 'something else', it wouldn't do him any good to get his hopes up at this point.

He finally found Bruce in the gym working his impressive muscles back into shape. It had been too long since he had last seen those rippling muscles- Oh how he longed to run his hands over those hard planes!

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, the Joker steeled himself for whatever disappointment he was about to face. Lifting his chin, and putting on his best smile, he sauntered over to the man on the mats.

"Batsy! You're looking so good now! Nothing like the last time I laid eyes on you!" Giving the half dressed man a thorough once over he smirked at the light blush across his Batsys' cheeks.

"What do you want, Joker? I'm busy." Pouting exaggeratedly, the clown tried to cover his real hurt.

He had just known that this wouldn't work! Damn Joe! He would never take advise from an hourly employee again!

"I just wanted to say goodbye in person, Bats. I didn't want to just slip away without a word! Especially since I won't be going to Arkham like I promised to. I mean, do you honestly expect my friends to be glad to see me now?!" As he began to laugh at his little joke, he turned away.

"You're leaving?" Bruce couldn't believe it. He had known it would happen eventually, but now that it was happening... did he want it to?

Quieting himself the Joker turned to see a slightly confused Bat staring at him. He really didn't want to leave, but it was best to do so now as it would just be harder to later.

"Of course I am. I promised to leave after a month if you didn't want me to stay, it's been three now; and you haven't spoken to me in two. I tend to take that as rejection. So!" Turning to leave again he was stopped by a warm hand on his arm.

"I get that you can't go back to Arkham- half the patients there now would commit suicide if you did- but where are you going to go? I can't let you take up your previous profession, and I doubt you would settle for a regular life." A sardonic smile graced his normally brooding lips.

"So what are your plans from here on out? How worried should I be that you'll blow up half of Gotham in boredom." The Joker pulled away gently- he was still afraid of reinjuring his Bats- and did his best to put the vigilante's mind to rest.

"I plan to retire, maybe take up teaching- getting my license renewed shouldn't be too hard-"

"You're a licensed teacher?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing." Raising an eyebrow the Joker continued.

"As I was saying: there are a lot of things I can do. And I promise not blow up Gotham- if I get the urge to destroy something I'll take out Metropolis. I really doubt Fly boy would be as much fun as you, but what are you going to do?" Beginning to turn once again, the Joker paused. This could be the last time he saw his Bats- so why not take a chance?

"Bruce... could I ask you for one last thing before I leave?"

"What?" Bruce was apprehensive, he wished the Joker would just leave- he couldn't take these conflicting emotions anymore.

He was Batman.

He was immune to such base feelings and desires.

So why did he feel so jealous at the thought of his Joker tormenting Superman instead of him?

"Just this..." And like that the Joker grabbed Bruce and slammed their lips together.

Half an hour later Alfred walked into the gym- and immediately retreated with a dark blush. The letter he had to deliver could wait, it was just a relief to know that those two were no longer dancing around each other.

Now would come the hard part: telling Gotham that its most eligible bachelor was now off the market. And for another man at that!


End file.
